


Found You in the Darkness

by aspacepickle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Drama, Dubious Consent, Elves, Faeries - Freeform, Horror, M/M, Mpreg, Rape/Non-con Elements, Squick, Supernatural Creatures, Supernatural Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspacepickle/pseuds/aspacepickle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles awakens the darkness in his heart, it wakes up something from the very darkness itself. (No season threeB)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Why hello! First time author, long time reader. I hope you enjoy the intro to my story and if you do let me know. :) A few things first. This is NOT beta read so please excuse my errors. If you would like to be my beta reader please let me know. 
> 
> Secondly, if you enjoy the OCs or the plot or anything about the story feel free to use them in your own stories. All I ask is that you do not copy and paste because that's just lazy, and you let me know about it so I can read it to.
> 
> Thirdly, READ THE WARNINGS!!! This is not a fluffy story! In fact, it's pretty dark and explicit if I do say so myself. So if you're reading the story and go OMG and decide to write a comment about how disturbing/gross/terrible this is that would be silly of you considering you clicked on the story in the first place. :/
> 
> Enjoy!

***~`~`***

Summer had come and gone. The once vibrant chemical-green grass of the neighbor’s lawn had withered; brown and crisp. It had cooled considerably, and the ocean had brought a salty tang with the wind as it soared its way into the small Californian town. Beacon Hills had always been of moderate climate, rarely reaching over eighty and very often it rained. Stiles liked the rain. It was clean, fresh and undoubtedly the opposite of what one would think about the young man, who had normally such a sunny, if not excited disposition. Stiles loved the sun, but the rain-the rain, was so much more…inviting. It beckoned him to feel it on his face, to watch it through the panes of his bedroom window, and on occasion traipse through the puddles like he was five again. Now, it was even more welcoming. 

It was now senior year and it had left the ragtag group of friends and enemies in a strange place. They were a pack and they were not a pack. Ethan and Aiden would never let themselves be led by Scott, but they held enough respect for him to not cause any more trouble. Well, werewolf trouble. The theory that Lydia and Danny had ‘kept the brothers in line’ was the unspoken agreement between the other members of the pack. 

Lydia and Stiles relationship remained perfectly friendly, and Stiles was okay with that. The truth was, after the whole ice bath of death episode, Stiles hadn’t been feeling quite the same. His once romantic attraction to Lydia had turned into friendship. He loved her, but wasn't in love with her. She had notice the change in him and seemed far more comfortable with him than she’d even been, and she didn't have to keep scolding Aiden for his possessive wolf behavior. The werewolf, begrudgingly, was good for her, or at least until she changed her mind. 

It was the whole Scott, Allison, and Isaac thing that threw him for a loop. Scott was still in love with Allison, and Allison was still very much in love with Scott. And Isaac…was in love with them both. The serious sexual tension rolled off the three in waves and made Stiles’ nose twitch unconsciously. Lunchtime had become fourth wheel time for Stiles. Actually, any Scott and Stiles bro time had become fourth wheel time. So Stiles spent most of his own time at home with his father who purposed a ridiculous nine-o-clock curfew for weekends, and a six-o-clock curfew for weekdays. The Sheriff’s schedule, luckily, included many late night shifts so sneaking out wasn't hard but if Stiles didn't text back or pick up the phone within ten minutes, there would be a local cop knocking on his door. Stiles thought it was extreme, his father told him to put up with it. And with the added dark circles that had taken up residence under his dad’s eyes, Stiles had a hard time arguing with him. Stiles also thought it had something to do with Scott’s dad being back in town. 

To say Sheriff Stillinski and Agent McCall didn't get along was an understatement. Agent McCall was trying though, and Scott decided to make and honest effort to get along with his father after Scott told him he’d break his legs if he hurt his mother. Agent McCall brightened at his sons words, accepting and proud that Scott had found some serious self confidence since he’d left. Stile and Scott still thought he was a jackass. 

Stiles took up wandering the Hale estate and the surrounding forest after class, and on weekends with his cell phone in case his father called, and two sandwich bags of wolfs bane and mountain ash in his hoodie pocket. His dad always assumed he was with Scott, so what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, and as long as he was home by curfew no one would be the wiser. 

It was Saturday afternoon and it had been raining lightly for the last couple of hours. The sky clouded, but light enough to see even in the most wooded parts of the Hale land. Stiles had left his jeep parked in the back of the old burnt down Hale house. There was a slim chance anyone would ever come there, but you could never be too sure. He had also checked out the Hale house in depth, and apparently either Derek or someone else had taken anything of importance, because all that was left was the charred skeleton of the house and Derek’s old ratty mattress on the floor. Stiles was almost grateful there was nothing of interest in that house, it gave him goose bumps to stand on the front porch. 

So, he stuck to wandering almost aimlessly around the property. The woods were full of life and it seemed that the animals had finally gotten over committing suicide, which Stiles was rather grateful for. He didn't want a buck running him through with his antlers, it was a little too Hannibal Lecter for his tastes. Instead, he found the animals to be quite…comforting. He would sit under the ancient oak trees and close his eyes and nap to the songs of the birds or listen as the many forest critters would move through the underbrush. It was the most relaxed he’d ever been since his best friend had gotten bitten by a werewolf. 

The rain lightly pattered down from the sky, wetting his red hoodie and bringing forth a bit of chill, which was ignored in favor of his continued journey through the estate. Stiles checked his phone; 7:05pm. It was late, but he still had a solid half an hour before it got too dark to explore and he would have to go back. He also hadn’t explored this part of the forest yet and Stiles couldn't force himself to turn back. 

The shrubbery had become dense and hard to manage. He pulled and pushed his way through, pants getting caught on twisted and sharp branches. It hadn’t been the first time he’d broken through this kind of obstacle only to find himself in a clearing or even at the main road, but this stuff was relentless. Stiles could see the silhouettes of the high-as-sky pines through the twisted mess of forest so he trudged onwards only to have the bottom of his pants catch on dead root. It forced him to sprawl awkwardly on his hands and knees, the palms of his hands scrapped and splintered. 

“Damn it!” Stiles cursed and rolled to a sitting position, brushed his hands free of twigs and picked a rather large splinter from the soft flesh of his right thumb. There wasn't much blood from the scraps so he wiped both hands against the sides of his jeans to clean them. He scooted forward to see where his pant leg was caught on the old root. From what he could see it was dead, the root dry and splintered. The bottom of his jeans twisted from when he had turned around and a large piece of the root had lodged itself through his the bottom pant near the hem, missing his ankle by very little. Stiles sighed and wiped rainwater and sweat from his face, thanking whatever gods might’ve been looking after him in that split second. He took a few moments to breathe before he set to untangle his jeans from the root. A moment later he stood up, brushed off his rump and took a look around. The foliage was still too thick to see very far and the creeping darkness was beginning to box him in. Stiles was starting to think he should’ve turned back a half an hour ago. For the first time since he had started exploring these woods, he was uncomfortable, and for the first time, it was silent. The rain must have let up for the time being so the soft pitter-patter against the leaves was gone. He held his breathe and listened for the birds, or the crunching of paws or hooves on the leaves. Or the wind… In its stead there was only eerie silence, all encompassing.

Something was wrong. His gut told him to get the hell out of there, to run as far away as possible. Fear gripped him tightly, his heart pounding in his ears and his body ramrod straight. He needed to go back, and he needed to go back now! Stiles prepared to run back the way he came, to push through the dense shrubbery of the forest but as he lifted his foot to make his way over the dead root he stopped. A thunder loud snap broke out and forced Stiles to look up in the direction it came from. Straight ahead! The teen wasted no time after the second snap was heard, turning around swiftly and pushing through the branches and vines with a fearful fluidity. Thin branches snapped back at him, ripping across his face and body. His pursuer was relentless, and the loud snaps turned into thundering crashes. Stiles pushed his way deeper into the undergrowth, body screaming and mind numb from fear. Darkness was all around him, but he pushed forward, hands outstretched and reaching blindly for something to pull him out.

All too rapidly his hand caught only air and he fell forward and then down. His hands landed first with a sickening crunch. Then, in attempt to save his neck from breaking, Stiles rolled hard and sharp onto his back. It felt like and eternity before he stopped none too softly on his stomach, gasping in pain and groaning when he attempted to roll over. 

Large burnt sienna eyes opened wide into near darkness. Stiles stilled and listened for his inevitable doom to come, but was met once again with only silence. A haunting silence that shook him from the deepest parts of his body. In that instant he remembered his phone and reached painfully into his hoodie pocket only to find nothing. It must have fallen out when he rolled down the hill! Cursing, the teen took a shaky deep breath and thought about what to do. He couldn't move his left hand and the sharp unrelenting pain he got when he tried made him believe that it was definitely broken. The rest of him was sore and bruised but he managed to stand on shaky legs. 

Instinctively, he knew he was still in danger. The thing that had pursued him was still out there, but why it hadn’t come barreling down the hill after him was confusing. From what Stiles could tell he was in a mass of great pines. The tall columns of their trunks loomed around him, as if watching his every move. Past the furry tops of the pines were clouds, dark and grey, moonlight highlighting the once silver lining into a dark stone grey. His eyes widened at the moonlight. Of course! He dug quickly into his jean pocket, and gave a small hurrah when he found the bag of mountain ash he kept on him.  
Stiles might not have been an extraordinary spark but he was a spark, dammit! So with his good hand and a lot to believe in he formed the mountain ash into a circle around him. Stiles might not have known what was in pursuit of him, but whatever it was had to be supernatural in nature, and mountain ash worked on more than just werewolves. Or, at least, he hoped. 

Seconds, turned into minutes, turned into what seemed like hours with silence and trepidation his only company. Maybe if I can make it until morning. Or maybe my dads already looking for me… 

The prospect of his dad searching for him sent a sharp pain through him. Whatever was out here whether it was wolf or not, was dangerous. He wished he could somehow contact Scott but howling would do no good as he wasn't a werewolf, and Stiles wished more then anything he allowed Peter to bite him that one time. 

When the pain became too great, Stiles forced himself to the ground, his good arm thrown around his knees and his broken wrist cradled to his chest. He was exhausted, hurt, and the night air chilled him to the bone. His jeans and hoodie were wet from the rain and the tumble down the hill. There was fresh blood on his face from where the branches broke his skin trying to make his way out of the undergrowth; he wiped what he could off his face and onto his muddy red hoodie. 

Gently, he placed his bad arm in his front pocket and wrapped his good arm tighter around his body. Waiting was agonizing, and the silence drove his paranoia to the brink. Why wouldn't the thing attack him? Why wouldn't it show itself? What was it waiting for? Stiles racked his brain for answers, but nothing made sense. 

'Unless, it’s playing with me.' 

Predators had a knack for playing with their food before consuming them, but whatever it was didn't make its self know until Stiles had tried to go back… 

'Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!' 

It wanted him here! It was herding him! Whatever it was, it was just nipping at his heels, forcing him to run this way. It could have caught him at anytime, running through that dense of forest was like swimming in molasses. There was no way a predator couldn't have caught him. Werewolf or not. 

Suddenly, the prospect of being eaten didn't sound so bad. Now he had no idea what it wanted…and all he could do was wait. 

Huddled in a ball in the middle of a circle of mountain ash, was Stiles Stilinski. As far as he knew no one knew where he was, and as far as he knew, he was going to die out here. Horribly.


	2. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to read the tags in the event that you read something you do not like.

Stiles had no idea when he had passed out, but it couldn't have been long as it was still dark and his body wanted to deny any kind of consciousness. He was bone deep cold, and as the chill started to set in, so did the shivering. Pulling himself into a tighter ball, Stiles peered upwards toward the night sky and noticed that the clouds had disappeared, leaving only pale moonlight. The surrounding forest of pines felt like a cage, their tall stature looming constantly over him. 

The silence lingered. It stretched over his shivering form and gripped him tightly, what he wouldn't give to hear Scott talk on and on about Allison now. Even Dereks’ noisy silence would have been better than this. On a barely comforting note, the mountain ash seemed to be working. Nothing had come to steal him away in his sleep, so maybe if he could make it until morning he could find a way out of here. 

Sitting up hurt something fierce but Stiles managed, still cradling his broken wrist close to himself and pulling his knees up and almost too snug against his chest. Tired eyes took in the scene around him; nothing but darkness past the caging pines. He took a deep sigh and laid his head on his knees and stared blankly into the darkness. Stiles was reminded of Nietzsche, ‘when you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back into you.’ 

Stiles wasn't stupid, he knew there was something watching him. Knew deep within himself that he should be very afraid of what lay in that abyss. He only wished it would show itself only to save him the anticipation of what would inevitably happen…and that wolfs bane hopefully had a deadly effect on it. 

The teen noticed something odd coming from the darkness of the pines and braced himself, sitting upright and alert. It was moving, twisting and inching slowly like a pit of snakes; sluggishly writhing and rolling towards him. Black turned into dark grey that turned into a translucent white. Fog. Stiles let out a breath he didn't know he’d been holding and willed his heart to steady. The twisting white mass of fog crept towards him, breaking off unnaturally at the line of mountain ash and slithering its way around the rest of the circle. The teen turned a shade paler. Something was out there and it was coming soon, if the obviously unnatural fog had anything to say about it.

Stiles looked all around him and then upwards, noticing that the fog seemed to be climbing the area outside of his circle, desperately searching for a way in. Shaking legs moved as far to the middle of the circle as they could, to try in vain to keep away from the sides and mentally willed the supernatural fog away. It only got thicker and thicker, and eventually Stiles could only make out the tops of the pines and small glimpses into the darkness beyond them. The silence continued as the fog made its unrelenting assault on him for what seemed like hours. With luck, the circle held and Stiles was forced to return to sitting due to pain and exhaustion. He huddled back into himself in the middle of the circle and closed his eyes. Stray tears leaked softly down his cheeks, landing and forming a wet patch on his hoodie sleeve. He wasn't going to give up, he couldn't give up! But he was so tired…and it was so cold. The urge to vomit settled itself into his gut, and Stiles had to fight back the nausea. Sitting in a small area with his puke sounded unappealing, so he forced the feeling down and opened his eyes to concentrate on the texture of his red hoodie. When the feeling finally faded, Stiles laid gently down onto his side, careful not to jar his broken wrist and bruises. 

‘I just need to close my eyes for a moment. So tired…’

In the end, weariness won out and the little spark succumbed to darkness. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Stiles knew he was dreaming, for there was no pain. He was warm and enveloped in a soft blanket. Or, what he thought was a blanket. When he opened his eyes to the dream world he could see only darkness, and when he reached out to touch something he touched the dark. It was soft, and warm. It enveloped him in an embrace like his mother used to when he was young. He was also naked. Pale skinned and supporting a healthy belly. Long fingers traced over his stomach carefully. This was important, this was precious, this was life. Instinctively, he knew, and it neither concerned nor scared him. 

But something was coming for them. Stiles felt the danger and lifted his body up and further into the darkness. He pushed and pulled his way through and away from the danger. Whatever was behind him made a terrible racket, screaming and tearing its way towards him. There was no escape! Darkness was unending and soon he wouldn't be able to carry on further, he would fall prey to whatever monstrous thing was hot on his trail. 

The life inside him cried out, and Stiles wrapped his arms around his body to try and comfort his precious bundle. A fierce pain shot through him as he was swept off his feet and bodily dragged backwards into a firm embrace. Stiles kicked and screamed, trying to dislodge his attacker, but to no avail. Whatever had him held him tightly and wouldn't budge. A rumbling laugher filled his ears, dark and grotesque. 

You can fight it.

I enjoy the chase. 

Fight me for eternity.

I will always catch you… 

Stiles awoke gasping for breath and staring up into a bright moon, he was back in his circle of mountain ash. It was only a nightmare, but he couldn't remember falling asleep. A low groan made its way out of his mouth once the pain set in. His broken wrist was still cradled inside his hoodie pocket and thankfully didn't seem any worse for wear. Painstakingly, he rolled up onto his feet. Unsteady but sure as he surveyed his surroundings, the fog had mostly disappeared, now it only lingered in wisps. It was still dark and Stiles noticed the moon hadn’t moved from the position it was in before he’d fallen asleep. Stiles was beginning to think that the morning would never come, and maybe he needed to rethink his strategy.

It was the wailing that broke him from his thoughts. A high painful screech echoed in his ears. It surprised him so much so that he almost walked backwards out of his circle. Unexpectedly, there was a strange cackling behind him and Stiles turned as if shocked. It was close! Cackling soon turned into a sick high-pitched laughter that bounced all around him, but he could see nothing. There was a rustling in the trees as if things were jumping to and from the pines, laughing and pointing down at the human behind the mountain ash. Abruptly, the cackles stopped. Silence consumed the area once again, and Stiles stood staring in terror at the darkness. 

‘Its here! Oh god its here! What do I do? Whatdoidowhatdoidowhatdoido!’ 

Then, as if willed by some force, Stiles fell to his knees, good hand catching him from more pain. The silence continued on and all around him he could only see darkness beyond the pines and the moon high in the sky. Before he passed out again, he could only think, ‘huh, waxing crescent…’ 

***

Stiles awoke once more to silence. He was getting tired of falling asleep and waking back up to the same thing. He could still see the moon from his uncomfortable position on his back, only this time it seemed…closer. The light it gave off was the same, but it looked bigger than it had before. He huffed out in frustration. Stiles knew now that he wasn’t in Kansas anymore. There was something seriously wrong with this place and he was certain it was only going to get worse. He had fallen asleep twice and the moon hadn’t moved, nor had the animals that would normally stalked the forest at night make any sound. If he were stuck in some strange alternate dimension, no one was going to find him. 

Stiles ached all over. He was cold and his wrist hurt something fierce, and he knew he couldn’t last here forever. It seemed that the mountain ash was holding off something, but could it hold off everything? He didn’t want to find out. The trees were as still and all encompasing as ever, and the night just as stagnant. Maybe, he could make a run for it. If he could run back the way he came maybe he could pass back out of this nightmare. It was a longshot but Stiles was afraid of what would happen if waited much longer. He was exposed and crippled, his best chance was to run. There was still half a bag of mountain ash and the wolfsbane in his pocket so he had a failsafe if he didn’t make it far enough. And only if he had the time to do it. 

Stiles stood up sorely, balancing himself and waiting for a small bout of dizziness to pass. There should be enough light from the moon to see where he had fallen downhill, but all he could see passed the silloutes of the towering pines was darkness. Still, there must be something different. The teen continued to rotate 360 degrees and oh so slowly until he noticed something. A break in the trees! It wasn’t huge, but he would have definetly noticed ramming into a tree on his way down the hill if there wasn’t one, and it was the only area big enough to make a difference. The rest of the trees were all uniform, as if it were a real cage. So he had a plan, and a path. If only Stiles could find the courage to do it. If only he could be so sure it wasn’t a trap. 

‘Of course it’s a trap! It was a trap in the first place. Come on feet, don’t get cold on me now.’ Stiles laughed under his breath a bit; he was cold all over. So it was either die of exposure or starve. ‘I think I’d rather go out fighting.’ Stiles grinned a little glumly. ‘But first, maybe I should play it safe.’ 

A couple of slow steps was all it took to make it to the line of mountain ash and Stiles raised his hands, ‘now or never,’ he thought. The line parted smoothly, albeit there was a bead of sweat running down his forehead. He stopped. Listened and waited. His pulse began to race and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He breathed shakily, in and out, in and out. The tension in his chest dropped to his stomach and he turned, his head and neck twisting lightning fast to peer behind him. Nothing. And he was off, pushing his legs as hard as he could, harder than he would in Coach Finstocks suicide runs for La Crosse. His injured arm tucked against his belly and his uninjured one pumping long and hard with his strides. As he got closer to the opening in the trees he could see where the hill began to slope upwards and he gave a mental woot as he prepared for the haul up the hill. His blood was now on fire and the recent cold forgotton. Legs buned with effort and stomach tightend intensly as he drove to make it quickly up the hill, taking care not to slip on the leaf and twig laden ground. The earth under his shoes was fairly soft, so when he made it halfway up he was able to grip into the groud and finish without slipping. With what little light he had he noticed the hill taper off and the beginnings of dark and thick forest loom in front of him. Stiles knew that he hadnt taken any turns in his haste to get away from whatever had chased him so he barrled right through the dense foliage, one hand attempting to take away the brunt of snapping brances from his face. If he could see more, he didn’t look. Getting as far away as possible and as quick as possible was his only concern. The sound of him rustling heavily through the forest must have been loud, but there were no signs of anything following him. No screams, no laughs and no thunderous sound of something giving chase. 

Stiles had tears in his eyes and for a brief moment he thought everything was going to be okay. When his right hand pushed against something soild and strangly smooth, he panicked. The young man was surround by stinging branches and cold darkness, but he could not move forward. He moved left and right, but the solid mass blocking his path would not budge. In a fit of frustration he slammed his right fist against it and the strange mass echoed back with a dull thud. Maybe he had gone the wrong way? Perhaps this was a house or some other structure; there was only one way to find out. Stiles could only go one way, so he went right to keep the strange thing on his left shoulder and to use his right arm to feel his way through the darkness. 

There was no end. Stiles felt as though he’d walked a mile, but he was resonably sure that no structure in Beacon Hills was this long. Not to mention the fact that there were no chips, dents, or texture of any kind. Just a seemingly endless wall of what apperead to be cold smooth glass. The teen could not help the frustrated tears that fell down his cheeks. He was hopelessly trapped in a place that he wasn’t sure even exsisted. Maybe he had died out on the Hale property, and was now forced to live out his afterlife in purgatory, or hell, but he knew that wasn’t the case; he could still feel pain. He also wasn’t dead yet, so he wiped his eyes on his dirty sleeve hoodie and trudged onward. Weary burnt sienna eyes had adjusted to the light and he could make out even more of the deep forest foliage. He had made it out of the heavier underbrush, and was now standing fully upright in a copse of heavy trees. Stiles couldn’t say what type they were, but when he touched them they were rough and cool. The other side of the strange glass was starting to become easier to see as well. It was no different from where he was, he just couldn’t get there. The same trees that stood on his side seemed to mock him from the other and he clenched his fist in frustration. 

At least whatever had chased him had not yet shown itself. Not that it wouldn’t... 

Stiles could make out an opening in the trees. Where the forest ended a large valley opened up to highlight brutally sharp mountains and a rather cold but beautiful night sky. This places moon stood chillingly above him in a sea of stars, larger and brighter than any moon he’d ever seen; it was haunting but no less lovely. For a split moment, Stiles thought that dying in a place like this wouldn’t be so bad, but when he looked to his left he could see those trees on the other side still mocking him. He was officially trapped. There were no spells or potions he could use to get out of this mess; just a small handful of mountain ash and some wolfsbane. 

The valley was filled with thigh high grasses, soft as silk and earthy smelling. It was still dead quiet when he entered the grass, only the sound of his crunching footsteps could be heard. Every so often he would stop, listen and look to make sure he wasn’t being followed. So far he wasn’t. 

Not too far ahead of him, Stiles noticed a mound. It was a soft grassy mound that stood not much taller than himself, and when he climbed to the top he noticed that it had a nice view of the surrounding area. Stiles was torn between using the last of his mountain ash and saving it for more dire circumstances. He had a nice viewpoint, and he knew he could hear something coming through the tass grass easily, so it seemed a waste to use it now.   
Seating himself upon the soft ground, Stiles despairingly thought of his dad and friends. He wondered if his dad was looking for him, and if Scott would notice at all. 

‘Probably making out with Allison and Isaac...’ His thoughts trailed off into an exhausted slumber. 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Stiles was warm, almost cozy as he slowly opened his eyes. ‘Did I fall asleep again?’ As he uncurled his body from a fetal position he noticed something odd, it was light out. He looked behind and noticed that it was dawn! The sun had finally risen and he could see the golden green of the tall grass, the dark green and earthy brown of the forest, and the brilliant cyan and plum of the sky. It was the most beautiful he’d ever seen the world. Except maybe when his dad had managed to buy him an xbox 360 for Christmas that one year. No, no this was definetly better. When he pushed off the ground to stand up he noticed that him wrist didn’t hurt anymore. He twisted it and stretched his fingers, it was as if nothing had happed at all. Maybe he had been dreaming all along? 

“Then where the hell am I?” His voice was whisper soft and although it looked like California, the very Northern part, he knew that the mountains werent that pointed and sharp, and he shouldn’t let his defenses down to soon. But he was grateful that he wasn’t freezing and he didn’t feel as though he’d gotten run over by a truck. The teen had endured silence for a while now that he didn’t notice the rustling of the breeze first, or the sound of animals moving around him, so much so that he didn’t notice the strange small creature that was gazing up curiously at him until it spoke. 

“Hello,” it said. Stiles was so startled that he gave a very undignified yelp and fell hard onto his backside. The thing gave a look of concern and rushed up to him, its short and stubby legs carried it confidently. “Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you. I am Olk.” The little creature Olk, held out both hands in an attempt to show Stiles that he was no threat. So with a bit of reserve, and a bit of nervousness, Stiles held out his right hand for Olk to grasp and shake in a warm and friendly manner. As Olk shook his hand, Stiles took the time to study the friendly creature. It was short, maybe two in a half to three feet tall with warm pink skin, human like toes and hands, (although a little chubby) and a very elven face with long pointed ears and earthy green eyes. Stiles assumed Olk was male from his flat chest and his narrow hips to broad shoulders, but couldn’t confirm it indefinetly from the leather like sash that was tied around his waist. 

“H-hi. I’m Stiles. Nice to meet you.” He replied as evenly as possible. 

“Stiles, huh? I’ve no idea what that is, but it’s nice to meet you just as well. Us folk don’t meet a lot of humans, in fact I don’t think we’ve ever met one. Yep, you’re the first, but what could you possibly be doing here in the first place I wonder? Curious.” Olk talked fast and with a bit of worry in his tone. 

“Look, Oak-,”

“Olk,” the small elven creature cut him off. 

“Olk. Sorry,”

“None taken human creature,” a wide smile and Stiles couldn’t help but grin with him.

“Olk, could you tell me where I am and how to get back to the human world? You see, I didn’t mean to come here. I was wondering around the woods when something big chased me to an open area filled with scary pine trees and then I heard screams and laughing but not before I had this really messed up dream-,” Stiles was getting frantic and he kept talking at a pace where Olk could no longer follow him. So the strange creature held up pink chubby hand in an attempt to get the human to calm down. 

“Sorry, sorry, god I am sorry. It’s just been crazy you know? I just want to get back home...” The teen trailed off in misery and Olk couldn’t help but feel sorry for the wayward human. 

“It’s okay child,” Olk smiled. “Why don’t you come meet the missus and we can try and sort out your dilemma, okay?” Stiles looked unsure.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” The creature nodded his head in reassurance. 

“Of course. We have much time before the darkness settles, and by then we will have a safe place to stay.” Stiles was still a little wary, but he felt as though he could trust Olk, so he and his new companion set off together in the tall grass. Stiles noticed that they were traveling toward the mountains and away from the forest. It was comforting to get away from the woods he thought he was going to die in, but this unknown territory unsettled him as well. Olk didn’t seem to mind as he confidently walked toward their destination. 

“What is this place Olk?” Stiles asked.

“Well it’s my home firstly, but I suppose you humans might call it an alternate world. A magical one perhaps. And I don’t want to pop your buttons but I have no idea how to get into your human world.” The crestfallen look on the boys face made Olk wince in a bit of sympathy. 

“Look, just because I don’t know how doesn’t mean there isnt someone who does. It’s just frowned upon you see; the less we know, the safer we are.” Stiles couldn’t argue with that, protecting your home was important. 

“Do you have any idea what chased me last night?” The small face looked contemplative.

“Many terrible things there are in the darkness. I’ve had three of my children eaten by vergs this season already!” He shook his head sadly and Stiles frowned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up.” 

Wise eyes looked up at him, “Do not worry yourself over it human. The vergs are swift burrowing creatures, not much taller than myself. Crafty lie tellers I say. Do you think that was what chased you?” 

“No, this was bigger, much bigger.” Olk looked ahead in contemplation for a few moments. 

“I am sorry human Stiles, it could have been any number of things really; we will just have to ask the missus.” Stiles’ new companion shrugged it off and the two continued to trek towards the mountains in companionable silence. 

As they walked, Stiles had time to think. It was obvious that he had walked into a different world altogether, and it was very much connected to his. But how do you simply walk into another world? Olk had said that he had never seen a human before in his world, so how was it that Stiles Stilinski of all people manage to get stuck in it. How did Olk know Stiles was a human if he’d never seen one? Not to mention the thing that chased him. If it had chased him inside this world, when did he cross over? Or maybe it didn’t. Perhaps the creature could move and out of worlds. Or perhaps- 

“Human Stiles!” The tinny voice of Olk broke through Stiles’ musings. The taller companion gave a sheepish look before aknowledging the smaller man. 

“Sorry Olk. Lost in thought.”

“Of course Human Stiles, I understand. We are nearly there.” Olk smiled and pointed a chubby hand toward a bright emerald mound of grass. Small, but vivid flowers bloomed from the top in a rainbow of colors. The mound couldn’t have been more than a few feet in diameter and was not entirely out of place amongst the tall golden grasses. A bit eccentric perhaps, but in this vibrant otherworld it seemed reasonable. 

“Wait here for a moment. I am going to speak with the missus.” Stiles nodded in understanding and watched as Olk lifted the mound with ease and slid inside. 

A warm breeze ruffled through Stiles dark chocolate locks and he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of earthy grass and something a bit sweeter, flowers perhaps. It was strange however, the darkness had frozen him, terrified him to the core, but there was something about it he missed. A strange feeling of nostalgia that he couldn’t help but think wasn’t all that out of place. Moonlight and shadows flashed themselves across his eyelids, giving him a an almost reasurring sense of peace. He opened his eyes. The sun had not moved from its original position; still rising or setting behind the treeline. There were no clouds in the sky, only a lovely gradient of effervescent color, blending seemlessly into the deep blue of the sky. A rustling brought Stiles’ eyes back to the grass mound where Olk poked head out and beckoned him to come closer. 

“The missus would like to meet you.” Olk smiled. “Why dont you come down and make yourself at home? It’ll be a bit tight, but you should have enough room.” A skeptical look plastered itself on Stiles face. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. 

“Of course! Of course! Us burrow folk like our home spacious and open. You’ll be just fine.” Stiles felt like he nothing to lose so he bent down and followed Olk into his home. 

The drop to the hard earthy floor was easy and painless, and where Stiles thought there to be darkness, was soft ambient light. Olk must have noticed Stiles staring. 

“Ah, those are glowstones. Easy enough to find and quite long lasting. The missus is quite skilled in magicks, and my cousin Velve says her stones are the brightest and last the longest!” Olk said with no little pride in his voice. 

The tunnel was warm but not overly so, and Olk stood easily in the passage with a few inches of room still left above his head. Stiles moved along as swiftly as he could on his hands and knees, and it was apparent that his companion was giving him time to catch up. Glowstones to his right and left seeemed to hum a bit with energy when he passed. It was a steady hum, not sharp, but low and easy like the soft sound of ocean waves. Stiles was a bit entranced by it and once again Olk took notice of it. 

“You can hear it cant you? The magick in this world gives off a certain kind of energy, I am not surprised you can sense it.” 

“And why is that?” Stiles asked. Olk only turned to gaze at him curiously. 

“You made it here did you not?” It was the contemplative look Stiles made on his face that had Olk tilt his head in curiosity. “Are you not a wizard human Stiles?” 

“No. Well, not really. I can form a circle of mountain ash and break it but that’s about it. In fact, I’m pretty lame compared to most people with magical abilities,” Stiles immediately thought of Deaton and Ms. Morrel. 

“I think you think too little of yourself human Stiles. Even I, a non magick user can feel that you have something special deep inside you. The missus knows it as well.” Olk whispered the last sentence, as though it were a secret, and it caused Stiles’ face to warm. 

“Come along now! Can’t keep my lady waiting.” 

After a few more minutes of traveling, the tunnel opened up into a large chamber. Stiles could stand but he had to duck his head a bit. There were several openings to the left and to the right, but the one Olk pointed to was the one straight ahead. 

“Down this way is the home of my mate and children. The furthest tunnel to your right leads to another exit and the rest are to the homes of our neighbors, all of which are pleasant enough.” Olk scratched his chin and looked thoughtful. 

“Why is it I’ve only seen you Olk? Are there many of you?” 

“Ah! That is because most of our kind don’t care for the early rise; I however do. And besides, that’s the best time to be picking lundwill mushrooms. Well, before the rest can get to them anyway. It’s what I was doing when I found you upon that large mound you see.”   
“Gotcha,” Stiles relplied before his stomach gave a very noticable rumble. The pink that appeared on his cheeks made Olk chuckle a bit. “Sorry,” the human said sheepishly.

“Do not worry Human Stiles, the thought of delicious lundwill mushrooms would make anyones tummy rumble. And you do look a bit peckish, perhaps the missus could make up a nice pot of stew?” Stiles could only nod in agreement and follow the little creature into his home.


End file.
